Fashion Show! Fashion Show! Fashion Show at Lunch!

Yes, I go to New School.

Yes, I have Animal Collective, Peter Bjorn and John, Passion Pit AND Grizzly Bear on my iTunes.

And yes, I do live in fucking Williamsburg.

I swear to you though, I have truly tried to resist my hipster impulses and not dress solely in bras, blazers and ripped lace shorts. But alas, today I fell. Not completely off the wagon, mind you. I was definitely hanging with the tips of my fingers to the little dignity I had left. 

You see, Cory and I went out to a fair today and my lazy ass didn't want to wear real clothes. So off I went into the depths of Williamsburg, dressed like this:

Yes, that is my bra you see.

And yes, those are booty bike shorts from Urban Outfitters.

I'm sure Emi is just rolling her eyes and vomiting all over me right now. She hates it when I wear leggings and a tie-dye t-shirt and this is a whole heck of a lot worse. But frankly, I don't care. 

I'm 20 years old. I show my bra and ass in public and I do what I want! I don't care if some townie on vacation snaps a pic and puts me on UIUC No Pants. I was fucking comfortable and that's all that matters.

And wouldn't you rather have me wear a little less clothes than have me wear something with some slutty saying or strategically placed graphics?

See? Wouldn't those be way worse? 

Though, the eyes on the tits one is pretty funny because it's like your boobs are staring down whose ever staring at your boobs and going "Bitch plz. Back the fuck up."

Plus, at least I don't dress like a slutty subway ad for a show about lesbians (I'm looking at you, people who bought this Mod Cloth swimsuit and thought it was "tres chic").

Point made. Case closed.

This Is How We Do It (AWK Edition)

I've been doing a lot of heavy drinking lately. This is the one downside to not really getting sick or that hungover, you never really learn your lesson. But then there are those moments that only came about because you were shwasty wasty-finding nemo-sleepovers-getting drunk-drunk that make it all worthwhile. (That was an inside joke that I don't think anyone who reads my blog will understand. But Katie and Bri, if you ever do, that one was for you!)

It's bad, but I'm kind of glad I've been doing the party thing so much lately. For the first time in three years (it's our anniversary today actually) I'm single-ish and feel independent. Charlie never wanted to go out, drink, or smoke and I spent so much of last year talking on the phone and missing him I barely left my dorm room. And it's not like going out to bars or going to/throwing dance parties is really doing something when you think of it in terms of all the wild opportunities New York City offers, but I'm in college for Christ's sake! And now I actually feel that way.

The New School is such a weird environment with no sense of community and so many people I mock and hate. It's bad, but going to parties reminds me of home and how college life there works. I mean, I do other things here too (went to a live radio show taping on Friday for instance), but the past few weeks the highlights have definitely been the trucked, whamied, and wasted ones. And I'm Ok with that.

Where else would you get the memory of my roommate and I balled up on the kitchen floor at 3 am in stiches after I yell out "I'm wearing all white!!!!...But it's ok! It's not after labor day!!!" (It was, in fact, the day before Labor Day). And then waking up the next morning to this:

In case you couldn't tell, that's a cookie sheet which had been used for nachos made with slices of American cheese (surprisingly delicious), a literal pot full of brownies, a stuffed animal rabbit who had been beaten so badly the night before his face had become even more squooshed, and a bunch of other mess that hadn't been there when we had left to go out. This picture really can't even capture the mess Kelly and I made of the apartment that night before passing out while watching Veronica Mars (we often make it a habit to leave parties a little early so we stay awake enough to watch an episode of a tv show).

And without these party adventures we never would have had these precious moments:
So let's just all raise our glasses (or full wine bottle) to another few crazy weeks and just hope that Kelly will never have to drag me home passed out ever again. Mazel tov!

I'm a Missed Connection!

Click the image to read it.

What School?

So as I prepare to head out for the wondrous gift of spring break I thought I'd share a little bit about why I sometimes love the New School.
That is my midterm. Two alien mothers: one beautiful, one ugly. How can you not love a school where you can take a class, talk about robots all day, and instead of papers you make collages? Plus, I got a few bf's in the class so that's an added bonus.